The negotiations had gone on longer than anticipated, and Kagome had almost stomped into the room, aura flaring, just to give her mate a break.
As it was, Jaken had been the one to suggest retiring for the evening, ushering the rest of the lords away with the promise of hot food and fresh sake. Kagome had been grateful, yanking Sesshoumaru back to their quarters before he could object. She'd already set the futon up, wanting him to relax as much as possible before somehow convincing him to actually sleep.
She'd offered to give him a massage, recognizing the telltale sign of an impending headache. She forced him to strip, then lay down, keeping only a few candles lit so it didn't aggravate the pressure between his temples.
Working silently, she pressed her fingers into his shoulder blades, easing out the knots he'd accumulated from sitting for so long. She loved that the remaining daiyoukai were trying to create treaties between their kingdoms but hated how they used their youkai blood as an excuse to skip breaks.
"Flip over so I can do your front," she said, tapping his arm. "And let me know if the scent is too strong—" Her mouth went dry when he settled onto his back, his erection standing at attention for all to see. 'All' was only the two of them, but she still wasn't expecting it.
She gave him a startled look, but he was utterly unrepentant. "You should not be surprised, mate. I always have this reaction when you touch me." Amber eyes glowed in the dim lighting, and Kagome swallowed slowly.
"You're supposed to be resting," she said.
"There are better ways to relax than this." He reached for her, letting his aura settle over her, and Kagome visibly shuddered.
"I'm just trying to help."
"You are," he reassured her. "Have a bath with me instead. Allow me to wash their scents from my skin before you remind me why I care about human lives in the first place." How he managed to get to his feet with her in his arms was a mystery, lifting her as if she weighed nothing.
And she supposed she should've been concerned that he had no qualms about walking through the hallways of the shiro without a stitch of clothing on, but his hands were already inside her robes, mouth fastened to the mark on her neck, and she promptly forgot why it was an issue in the first place.